Grasping Light
by Holly Dreamer
Summary: AU set after CoLS, Sebastian is winning the war against the Shadowhunters and there seems to be no hope. But when Clary finds a way to travel to a different dimension, there may be a chance to stop Sebastian. But as Clary and her friends find themselves in a new world, a indigo eyed man with dark secrets claims to know how to help them. Can they trust this man to save there world?


**Hello to all my fellow mortal instrument fans, as you see I am writing a fanfiction. I just want to thank you all in advance for those who clicked on my story and wondered "And what kind story will this be?" I promise you that I will all try my hardest to keep you entertained in the little tale I've created. Now I know this chapter lacks the usual characters but don't worry, they shall come soon. I just have to set up the stage first. So read, enjoy, and please review! I want to see what you guys think of this.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plot and my OC.**

Prologue: The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil

I boarded the train with only the clothes on my back and the black, beat-up guitar case that I always keep with me. It was 9:47 at night, so the train was relatively empty. I decided to sit in the third car by the doors. After I sat down, I gently tossed my guitar case to the opposite bench to give me more legroom. A few minutes later the conductor came around for tickets. The conductor was an old black man who I couldn't help but think looked a bit like Morgan Freeman. He looked at me strangely when I handed over my ticket because, out of nervous excitement, I'd crinkled and folded my ticket till there were white creases all over it. The poor old man had a hard time seeing where he was supposed to punch the card. When he finished his job, he handed the card back to me very cautiously.

The old man certainly had a reason to be wary of me and I_certainly_ couldn't blame him; I looked as if I'd just walked out of a war zone and into the train station. My torn clothes were beyond salvage and I was covered from head to toe with grime and grease. I dropped the mission I was on and had opened a portal, from the dimension I was in, to the Shadowhunters' realm the moment after I was told they needed my help.

Although now I regretted not taking a shower and changing my clothes, but all the pent-up energy and giddiness was let out the moment I got the call to come back home. The city, New York City to be precise, was where I spent my childhood and my adolescent years, until I was eighteen and left for a new start.

That was three hundred ninety five years ago.

Deep down inside I knew no one would recognize me but I couldn't bring myself to care. I had come back to this world to protect the individuals that I loved, not the freaking Nephilim cult I was once a part of.

Now sitting, the buzzing of emotions cooling down, I started to finalize the plan that was in my mind. My first job was to get a modified version of my trans-dimensional notes to Clary and Magnus without any physical contact. They're just going have to wait a bit longer before meeting me. Then I have to make sure the whole brilliant group of Shadowhunters and Downworlders that I had been hearing about will be at the portal summoning. I certainly don't want some stuck up old cult men to screw up my plans. And finally, I need to make sure Sebastian doesn't get in the way of the first part of this journey (not like it matters anyhow, he will certainly attack the Shadowhunters when he finds out what I'm going to attempt). I focused on this part of the plan for it is all I can do at the time.

_ That and find a place to clean off_.

I looked at my reflection that appeared on the black train windows. A rugged man with torn pants and a black ripped shirt stared back at me and I sighed. Before you think I'm OCD or something it's just that I like to be clean. It's not fun when there's dirt and sticks are in your wounds and every time you move you feel your grimy clothes rub against your grimy back.

It's a bit irritating.

I sighed as I use magic to make copying paper appear in my hand. I realized I had no good hard surface to write on, so I had to get up and grab my guitar case and sit down again that required a whole lot more energy than my lazy self can typically manage. I normally would just use magic to bring it over to me but, I knew in the very near future I would need every scrap I had. From my jean pocket I pulled out a small wooden top that was tipped with _adamas_. I pushed the top down and spun it, the top spiraling across the page until it slowly fell into a smooth rhythm.

"Activate," I whispered, with a snap of my fingers that let out a few wisps of my magic wafted through the air. The top suddenly started to draw on the blank page, thick black lines were being produced from the tip like a stele on Nephilim skin. I had crafted the top myself, connecting the simple toy to my mind. This allowed me to only think about what I wanted to be written down while the top, at lightning fast speed, scrawled it all down for me. There was a certain beauty to the simplicity and efficiency of the toy that with no one would take a second glance at it keeping the top safe from thieves who tried to rummage around in my bag for any valuables. Not that left my pocket anyway; I have grown dependent to the device and I am slowly finding it more and more annoying to write with a pen or pencil.

The top had quickly done its job, it now slowly lost momentum as it finishes the last diagram. With a satisfied smile I placed the little top back into the depths of my pocket and looked at my writings. I separated the papers from each other into two different piles. The first pile was all the information the Shadowhunter will need to create the right portal. The other one was just a duplicate of the first pile but at the bottom there was a note to the warlock about dressing sensibly when creating the portal. I prayed to the glitter gods that he will pay attention and follow my directions when he gets this.

A second after, I start praying to all the gods that everyone in the group will listened to me. This was going to be a ridiculously hard mission; like guiding cats in going through a museum. For the first time since getting here the little pessimistic voice started to talk.

_ This will never work and you know it_.

I shake my head, like a dog trying to shake off water. But when I add up all my experiences, every lesson I learned and all my knowledge of good and evil, I know there's a slim chance any of this will work. Today is going to be a day of rest for them, because tomorrow there world is going to fall into hell.

**Because of school it will take a bit before the next chapter will be posted but I hope you like this one. Take care till then!**

**~ Dreamer**


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